


Christmas Sucks!

by Dextrousleftie



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Christmas, Christmas Presents, Christmas Tree, Fluff, Gay Romance, Love, Lust, M/M, Magic, Merlin - Freeform, Oral Sex, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-08-24 01:22:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8350771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dextrousleftie/pseuds/Dextrousleftie
Summary: The vampire Donnell MacAindris has been alone for a long time. But when he meets a VERY strange youth(who is not what he seems) a few days before Christmas, his whole immortal life is turned upside down...





	1. Chapter 1

It was beginning to look a lot like Christmas…much to his chagrin. Donnell MacAindris sighed, standing on a street corner with his shoulders hunched and his head lowered. He really, REALLY hated this time of year! Actually, Donnell hated all times of the year, but Christmastime had to be the worst. This was when humans gathered to celebrate, when families came together in love and joy, when there was light and color and life everywhere. It was at Christmas that he felt the most alone, and completely left out of all of the gaiety and frolics taking place around him. Donnell shoved his hands into his pockets and crossed the street. He wasn’t really going anywhere; he had nowhere to go.

He hadn’t had anywhere to go for a very long time, in fact. Ages. Literally. All of his friends and family were long gone, lost in the mists of time. Donnell was very much alone, as even his own kind tended to avoid him. They thought he was far too morose and depressing to want to hang around with him. That was fine. He didn’t really want to be with them anyway. Donnell had never liked his own kind much. He thought most of them were arrogant, egotistical, and far too self-involved. All they were concerned with was their next meal, or finding just the right clothes to make them look like douche bag poseurs. The whole all-over black thing had never made any sense to him whatsoever. Most of them just looked like they were going to go into undertaking for a living at any moment.

The sun broke through the heavy clouds for a moment, outlining the street in shades of gold and white. Donnell stopped to turn his face up to it in a ritual that he’d developed over the years. Once upon a time, it had amused him heartily that humans had this odd idea that his kind would burst into flame if they stood in the sunlight. If he stood in it long enough, he might get a nasty sunburn, but… It was all the fault of his fellow Irishman, Bram Stoker. That bearded fool had written a book so full of lies and exaggerations that it was bound to become a massive hit – which it had. Ever since then, his folk had had to periodically put up with a frenzy among the humans as they lost their minds over all things vampire. This latest craze was only the worst in a long line of horrors – in all of the last hundred years or so, at least they’d never had to put up with vampires that SPARKLED before!

Yes, Donnell MacAindris was a vampire. A blood sucker. A creature of the night…although not really. He was, in fact, the most miserable vampire that had ever lived. Well, technically not lived…but….he sighed again, plodding along as he headed for his apartment. He’d shut himself inside and sit on the couch mindlessly watching television, and hopefully be able to forget for just a while how much his life sucked. Both literally and figuratively. Being a vampire was the worst.

Once he hadn’t thought so. Like many a crazed teenager of today, when Donnell had met the tall, handsome, and charismatic man with the magnetic eyes he’d fallen hard. The exotic stranger had appeared in his village one day, claiming to be from distant lands far to the East. Donnell had been completely enthralled with him. Vassily had wooed him passionately, taking his heart by storm. And not too long after that, his body as well. It was only afterward, when he was completely in Vassily’s thrall, had the dark and mysterious man told him just what kind of creature he actually was. And by then Donnell wanted nothing more than to join his lover in living forever, so he’d begged Vassily to turn him.

Donnell could remember with a shudder the pain he’d gone through as Vassily’s blood had coursed through his body, changing him forever into something not-quite-human anymore. He’d screamed and thrashed as his own blood seemed to boil in his veins, and Vassily had held him down and shouted into his ear that he’d feel better soon. He hadn’t believed his lover, but finally the pain had subsided. Donnell MacAindris had come back to himself as something else altogether – a creature that could see in the dark, had a better sense of smell than a dog, and was extremely strong and agile. Not to mention non-aging, of course. And all of that for the simple sacrifice of his unwanted humanity, his ability to age and die. It was a good deal, in his eyes.

He didn’t think so anymore. Time had proved him wrong. Not only had everyone that he’d ever known long since crumbled to dust, but he could ill afford to make friends with any humans as their life spans were so short. They seemed gone in the blink of an eye to him. It was like befriending a fruit fly, truly impossible. Worse, his Maker Vassily had grown bored with him after awhile, and had deserted him in a foreign land to merrily go on his way without Donnell. That had broken his heart; since then he’d mostly avoided other vampires. They couldn’t be trusted, not a single one of them. They’d all lived too long. They didn’t care about anybody but themselves. He’d long since given up believing that anything would ever change for him. He’d go on and on, feeding himself more out of necessity(the cramps that came with going without eating for more than a few days were absolutely dreadful) than anything else and just enduring his long, LONG un-life until he finally begged someone to dowse him in gasoline and set him on fire. Or maybe he’d work up the courage to do it himself; anything to be free of the cage of his existence.

He was brought out of his dark, morose thoughts by someone planting themselves firmly in his path on the sidewalk. Donnell halted in his tracks, looking up(he had, out of necessity, since he was all of five-foot-five) into the face of a young human. Very young; he only looked to be about nineteen or twenty. A gamin grin was spreading across the human’s lips, as he met Donnell’s gaze easily. That wasn’t something terribly common; most humans recognized one of their predators instinctively and looked away when they accidentally met his eyes. And there was something odd about the human’s eyes, anyway. They were parti-colored; that is, the left eye was a sort of mist-grey color, and the right was a light-brown flecked with gold. That was disconcerting, even more so than his being able to meet Donnell’s eyes. He wore his mink-brown hair pulled back in a tail at the base of his neck, and he was wearing the wildest clothes that Donnell had ever seen. A long patchwork coat opened up over a tie-dyed shirt and a plaid skirt(A skirt! A man wearing a skirt in this day and age!), and furry brown boots with high tops were half-sunk into the snow. Assorted necklaces of beads and crystals and teeth were strung around the human’s neck in a jumble, and his belt was a length of fine chain.

This very strange-looking stranger grinned down at Donnell as though he’d just rediscovered his best friend in the whole world. “Why the long face, cutie?!” he called over the sounds of the city and the other passerby.

Donnell’s frown deepened and his brows drew down. What was happening here? Who was this impertinent human? Seeing his expression, the human youth laughed. “I was just curious,” he told Donnell, “One of my many failings, I’m afraid. As they say, curiosity killed the cat. Not that I’m a cat, but I think it applies to humans too. When I saw you, I just had to come over and find out how old you are.”

Perplexed and wary both, Donnell replied coldly: “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The youth waved a hand at him. “Sure you do,” he said easily. “I mean, you look like you’re in your mid-twenties, but looks are often deceiving, aren’t they? I’d bet a couple of hundred years, at least,” he added half under his breath, so that no one passing by them on the street would be able to hear what he said.

Shocked, Donnell just stood there for a moment. This young human was not a vampire; he always knew his own kind by both sight and smell. But he seemed to know what Donnell was. To clarify, he spoke slowly in a low voice: “You think that I’m a couple of hundred years old? Are you daft?”

The youth cocked his head to the side a little. “Definitely,” he replied. “But not about you. I could tell by your aura what you are. I haven’t seen one of you in awhile, though – I was beginning to think that you’d all gone extinct or something.”

Now totally bewildered, Donnell shook his head. “And just what is it that you think I am?”

The boy’s grin widened. “You’re a…VAMPIRE,” he hissed in a dramatic tone of voice, waiving his hands and rolling his eyes as though he were having some kind of attack.

Donnell felt his lips twitch in the first urge he’d had to laugh in he couldn’t remember when. “How do you know that?” he demanded, not bothering to deny it.

A chuckle. The youth held up one of his gloved hands and twiddled his fingers in the air. “Easy,” he told Donnell. “It was magic!” He felt a weird tingle run over his skin, as something appeared in the air above the youth’s palm. It settled and took on shape and form, becoming an apple that lay on his hand. He smiled impishly and raised it to his lips, taking an enthusiastic bite. “I’m a magician,” he went on when his chewing had subsided.

“Like David Copperfield? Can you make yourself disappear now?” Donnell asked dryly.

Another merry laugh. “Not that kind of magician. That kind specializes in illusion, not real magic.”

Donnell lifted his brows, intrigued. “The last time I checked, there was no such thing as real magic," he told the youth.

“And the last time that I checked, there was no such thing as vampires,” he replied.

“Touché,” Donnell said. “But you’re really trying to tell me that you’re a magician? Like Merlin or something?”

The youth laughed gleefully, tossing the apple into the air and making it disappear. “You’ve hit the nail right on the head!” he exclaimed, pointing a finger at the bewildered Donnell.

“What?” he was starting to feel a little irritated, on top of being intrigued. Two emotions that he hadn’t experienced in some time, actually…

The human tapped himself in the middle of his chest. “I’m not LIKE Merlin,” he explained. He paused for dramatic effect, looking Donnell right in the eyes again with his own weird parti-colored eyes. “I AM Merlin!”


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Someone ratted me out to Weebly, my website builder, and they banned my fan fiction site because it contains adult material. So if you can't find it anymore, don't be surprised. I'll put the rest of my fan fiction stories up on here instead when I can get access again to the computer that they're stored on, since my friend/roommate had a family emergency and took her laptop with her to Arizona. I'm also going to speed up putting all of my stories from my original slash fic site on here, because someone might report me for that, too, and it'll disappear as well.

Donnell lifted his brows at this flamboyant pronouncement. “Oh, really?” he drawled. “And I’d bet that you ride a unicorn and bathe in rainbows too, right? Tell me, what’s Arthur doing these days? Working in a strip club showing women his mighty ‘sword’?”

The youth laughed heartily. “No, no,” he said, shaking his head. “I didn’t mean that I’m THAT Merlin! I mean that I’m A Merlin. There’s a big difference.”

Donnell frowned. “Are you a druid, then? Wasn’t Merlin a title customarily passed down to one of their priests?”

“You’re knowledgeable,” the boy said admiringly. “And I am a druid…well, sort of. I never formally joined the priesthood or anything – they just showed up at my door one day and told me that I was the Merlin, because I’d been born with the capacity to to do real magic. That, and these,” he pointed to his own eyes, “All of the Merlins who’ve been magic-users had these eyes. Apparently they’re part of what makes us magic…oh, and part of what makes us crazy, as well.”

“So you’re saying that you ARE daft? Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Donnell remarked dryly.

A grin. “I like you. You speak your mind,” the tall youth said admiringly. “Listen, can we go somewhere and talk? It’s been ages since I met a supernatural creature. I’m fascinated. I want to know everything about you.”

Donnell sighed in a long-suffering sort of way. “I don’t really…” he began.

The youth cocked his head a bit. “Do you have something important that you need to be doing?” he asked. “Something that’s so urgent that you can’t spend a few hours talking to me?”

Donnell gritted his teeth. “No,” he said stiffly. “But that does not mean that I want to spend time with you.”

The youth’s face fell. “Oh, come on,” he said wheedlingly. “I’m a good guy, I swear! You can totally trust me! But if you really don’t want to…” he sighed sadly. “I guess I’ll just have to go. But not before I start yelling at the top of my lungs about how the cute guy standing in front of me is a vampire. Nobody will believe me, of course, but it could make life hard for you.”

Donnell’s hands balled into fists at his sides. “That sounds like blackmail to me,” he snapped.

A nod. “You betcha. I’m not above blackmail to get what I want. So maybe I’m not such a good guy after all,” he added with a rueful, charming shrug of his shoulders. “So will you come? Or do I start yelling?”

Donnell blew out his breath, leaving a frost cloud on the air. “Very well,” he conceded. “I’ll come. But don’t expect me to be very good company,” he warned tightly.

The youth grinned happily. “Oh, I think that you’ll be very good company,” he told Donnell. He didn’t elaborate on what he meant, making Donnell frown again in a baffled way.

 

 

The youth led the way to a diner a few blocks away. It was one of those faux-Fifties places, with waitresses in poodle skirts and a juke box playing Elvis and Buddy Holly tunes. Donnell looked around in distaste as they slid into a booth. He hadn’t liked the 1950’s the first time; having them recreated in this gaudy, garish way made his eyes ache. The youth who claimed to be A Merlin waved to a waitress. “I’m going to have some cocoa,” he said as he removed his gloves. “It’s cold today. What about you?”

“I can’t digest cocoa or any other kind of food or drink,” Donnell reminded him.

“Oh? Yeah,” he replied, his face falling a little. “I forgot. That must suck righteously. I love this place; they have then best malts and fountain drinks ever. Makes me feel right at home,” he went on, looking around.

Donnell’s brows knit together. “Why would a place such as this make you feel right at home?” he questioned. 

The youth grimaced slightly. “Well, I’m older than I look,” he explained. “Apparently the magic keeps us from aging. Well, we do age, but it’s really, REALLY slowly. I was born in 1943,” he said.

Donnell’s mouth opened slightly. “Are you saying that you’re sixty-seven years old?!” he blurted out, and then looked around when he realized that his voice may have carried.

The youth snickered. “The look on your face is priceless,” he said drolly. “And yes, I’m sixty-seven. My younger sister has grandkids. While I,” he laid a hand on his chest, “Look like I did in high school. I guess we stop aging when we finish growing. Which is not great when I want to get a drink,” he told Donnell. “Everybody always knows I’m using a fake i.d., although the funny thing is that the one I use shows me as being younger than I actually am, not older.” 

The vampire considered this. Meeting someone who wasn’t a vampire, and yet had lived almost seventy years without aging…it was strange but interesting. “Merlin is a mere title, isn’t it?” he said at last, looking up at the human. “Do you have a name?”

“Yep. It’s Kieran. Kieran O’Mara. I’m as Irish as you are, at least by ancestry. Though I’ve never been to the ‘Old Country’,” he added.

“It's not all it’s cracked up to be,” Donnell said with a shrug.

Kieran’s parti-colored eyes studied him. “You’re really depressed,” he noted. “Why? I mean, not being able to eat or drink anything would be kind of bad, but…”

Donnell felt the muscles in his shoulders tighten. “My mental or emotional state is none of your business,” he snapped. 

Kieran shook his head. “Touchy,” he chided. “I just thought I might be able to help cheer you up, is all. Here,” he did something under the table, and lifted his hand with something resting on the palm. He held it out toward Donnell. 

He looked at Kieran’s hand, and saw that it was a plush toy of a black-and-white cat wearing a black cape with a red lining. The cat had long fangs and red eyes. “What is this?” he said, giving the youth a cool stare.

“What does it look like? It’s a vampire kitty,” the Merlin told him cheerfully. “Isn’t it cute? I thought it would cheer you up.”

“Well, you thought wrong,” Donnell replied in annoyance.

Kieran sighed and set the plush toy on the tabletop. He slid it toward Donnell. “Keep it anyway,” he told the vampire. “You could sleep with it at night or something. Everybody needs something to cuddle when they sleep.”

Donnell eyed the toy and then the human mage. “You are very odd,” he remarked in a dubious voice.

“Oh, I know that,” Kieran agreed, then smiled up at the pretty waitress when she came to their table armed with a steaming mug of hot chocolate complete with miniature marshmallows floating on top of it. “Thank you,” he told her. He handed her a ten dollar bill. “That should cover it, and give you a nice tip,” he went on with a wink.

She giggled and took the money, giving him a flirtatious glance in return. “Just let me know if you need anything else,” she said, swishing her hips to make her poodle skirt sway as she walked away. 

“I’ll be sure to,” he said, making Donnell’s brows lower. Then Kieran glanced at his face, and his lips twitched when he saw the black look he was getting from the vampire.

“What?” he asked innocently. “Don’t you think that she’s pretty?”

“I don’t think anything,” Donnell told him coldly. “I’ve no use for children.”

“Yes, I guess she’d be a child to you, wouldn’t she?” Kieran said slowly. 

“And to you, if you’re not lying about your age,” Donnell reminded him sharply. 

“I suppose,” Kieran propped his chin on his hand on the tabletop. “But that means that EVERYBODY is too young for me, except for ladies and gentlemen at the old folks’ homes. And can you see me coming on to any of them? That would be pretty ugly, I should think. Hey, grandma, you want to make out?” he made his voice rather sing-song as he said this, and Donnell closed his teeth on another laugh that was trying to escape. 

But the sharp eyes caught the signs on his face, and Kieran’s eyes began to gleam. “Ah hah! So you DO think that I’m funny!” he cried triumphantly, pointing a finger at Donnell. “I knew I could cheer you up.”

“How could I not laugh at the antics of a clown?” Donnell said dryly.

Kieran pretended to pout. “Don’t be mean.” He sipped at his cocoa, then made a satisfied sound at the taste. “I wish you could try this,” he told Donnell. “It's wonderful. They use real chocolate to make it, not that powdery stuff in the packet.”

Donnell shook his head. “It's not as though I know what you’re talking about,” he told Kieran. “I’ve never tasted either chocolate or powdered cocoa either. I was born in a poor village in Ireland; we couldn’t afford chocolate or anything except cakes sweetened with honey. And since I was turned, my only nourishment has been blood.”

Kieran grimaced. “I can’t imagine only being able to drink blood,” he said in disgust. “I’ve tasted blood before when I got a cut on my lip. It was awful.”

“You get used to it,” Donnell replied dourly. “You have to.”

“Yes, I suppose that’s true. But here…” he dipped a long finger in his cocoa. “You might not be able to digest it, but a little on your tongue can’t hurt. Just taste it,” he held out the finger to Donnell.

The vampire gave him a LOOK. “I am not going to suck your finger,” he said stonily.

“Why not? I expect that you’ve sucked worse things,” Kieran said with a twinkle in his eyes. “I meant necks and things,” he added when Donnell narrowed his eyes. “You have a dirty mind.”

Donnell breathed through his nose and tried to control his temper. He glanced at Kieran’s finger, which was still extended. “Nevertheless, I’ll not suck your finger.”

Kieran made a clucking sound with his tongue. “You don’t have to suck it, just taste it,” he urged. “Come on, what can it hurt? Or are you scared to?” he taunted.

Donnell’s cheek twitched a little as a tic formed there. “You are impossible,” he told Kieran.

“I know. But you’re changing the subject,” Kieran remarked, waving his finger in the air in front of Donnell’s face. “So you’re scared to taste something that isn’t blood? That’s sad.”

Donnell cursed in Gaelic and caught that impudent finger. He extended his tongue and very lightly touched it to the dark drop on the tip. It took a moment, but his blood adjusted taste buds finally kicked in and made sweetness explode in his mouth. He almost moaned like a woman lost in the throes of desire, his whole body shuddering as he tasted something besides blood for the first time in centuries. It was…wonderful. He’d truly forgotten what it was like to taste anything(over time, he’d grown used to not tasting blood at all when he took it in for nourishment). It was like an oral orgasm.

Kieran was smiling at his expression. “Not so bad, eh?” he asked smugly. “I thought you’d like it. It never occurred to you to just taste stuff, even if you can’t actually eat it?”

No, it hadn’t. Donnell felt rather stupid for not having thought of it before. Kieran leaned forward a bit and looked him in the eye. “See? Its good to have me around,” he said coaxingly. “I promise that I’ll grow on you.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A real Merlin sets out to brighten the spirits of a depressed vampire - just in time for Christmas! Happy Holidays, everybody!

Donnell eyed the loony mage warily. “What do you mean, it’ll be good to have you around? And that you’ll grow on me?” he demanded.

Kieran grinned merrily, his duel-toned eyes sparkling. “Well, I just thought that we could hang out together from now on,” he said persuasively. “I mean, we’re both lonely. Neither of us have anybody that’s close to us…or am I wrong about you?” he asked, looking Donnell over shrewdly. “Are you rolling in friends, and you just can’t wait to get back to them?”

The vampire wanted to bare his teeth. He glowered at Kieran from under his dark brows. “That’s none of your business,” he growled.

“But I think it is,” Kieran replied promptly. “Or I’d like it to be, anyway. See, I thought I’d never seen anyone who looked more lonely or depressed than you were earlier. You looked so sad…it made me feel bad. I just want to cheer you up. And besides, I’m not kidding when I say that I don’t have any close friends either. And I certainly can’t go and visit my family for Christmas - I’d give my sister a heart attack if I did that. They all think I’m dead,” he sighed. “I had to fake my death forty-five years ago. That was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.” he looked glum for the first time since Donnell had met him on the street less than an hour ago, his shoulders drooping. Suddenly, for the first time in at least a century, Donnell felt compassion for someone else, instead of just pitying himself and his own plight. 

“I guess,” he said rather stiltedly, “That we could…hang out together. Or something,” he said aloud. 

Kieran instantly brightened up. “You mean it?!” he cried, sounding so happy that it rather took Donnell aback. He couldn’t remember anyone ever being this excited to spend time with him before. Not even Vassilly at the beginning of their relationship. 

“Err…yes,” he said, eyeing the mage warily again. He really had to remember that Kieran himself had admitted to being crazy. 

Kieran crowed victoriously. “You won’t be sorry!” he cried, beaming at Donnell. “I swear!”

Actually, he was already rather sorry. But Donnell couldn’t take his words back, since Kieran just looked so bloody HAPPY about them! He sighed. “What now?” he asked.

Kieran considered this question. “I think we should go ice skating,” he told Donnell.

The vampire looked perplexed. “Ice skating?” he repeated incredulously. “Are you serious?” 

Kieran nodded. “Sure! Its great fun. Have you ever been?”

Donnell shook his head slowly. Kieran nodded in a satisfied way. “Great. I can teach you,” he told the vampire happily. “You’ll love it.”

 

 

Donnell decided that he didn’t love ice skating at all. He and Kieran had been at the rink for almost half an hour now, and he still hadn’t quite gotten the hang of it. His ass was sore from falling down, and he’d barked his shins a couple of times, too. His ankles felt wobbly in the laced-up skates. There was a black scowl on his face as he tried yet again to balance on two metal blades, and his dark eyes promised retribution on the crazy mage that had dragged him here. 

Kieran was gracefully coasting along ahead of him, but he spun around and came back to Donnell. “Let me help you!” he called out to the vampire. 

Donnell started to tell him just where he could shove his ‘help’, but before he could get a word out Kieran grabbed him around the waist(well, the upper waist, anyway, since he was so much taller than Donnell) and steadied him. “Listen, I’ll go slow,” he told Donnell. “Just try to match my pace and do what I do. All right?”

It wasn’t ‘all right’, a mutinous Donnell thought. He looked down at their feet and tried to imitate what Kieran was doing, to match his pace to the mage’s. To his surprise, he started to get the hang of it at last. His stubborn feet began to glide along instead of tripping him up. He heard a delighted laugh above his head. “See! I knew you could do it!” Kieran cried encouragingly. 

Donnell felt relief and pride mingle within him. This wasn’t so very bad after all, he decided. It was kind of fun, actually. He yelped suddenly as Kieran steered him into a turn. “You’re doing fine!” the younger man called. “Just relax and have fun.”

Donnell felt some of the tension flow out of him. He even tried going faster on his own recognizance, and Kieran only laughed and kept pace with him. To his shock, the vampire realized that he hadn’t had even one brooding thought for the last two hours. He glanced up at Kieran’s face, seeing his white teeth as the taller man smiled down at him. A saucy wink, as he remarked: “Told you you’d love it!”

Donnell tried to frown at him, but couldn’t quite muster the expression at the moment. Kieran chuckled and removed his hand from Donnell’s upper back. “Try it on your own now,” he encouraged.

He looked down at his own feet, carefully moving them in that gliding motion. While he was moving slower now that he didn’t have any support, he wasn’t falling down! Donnell felt almost delirious at accomplishing this all on his own. Kieran skated a circle around him, even turning and skating backward to look into his face. “You’re doing great,” he told the vampire. “I’m so proud of you. Isn’t this fun?”

It was now. Donnell shrugged a bit, not letting his delight at getting a handle on this new pastime show on his face. Kieran’s eyes were laughing at him, and he suspected that the mage knew exactly what he was thinking(and trying to conceal). He smirked as he did a little pirouette. “I could have been an ice skater,” he remarked happily. “But it would have been a bad idea to become so famous that everybody knew what my face looked like. Having photos of me around from thirty years ago where I look the same as I do now would be pretty hard to explain. Besides, I’m too lazy to want to put in the amount of practice that ice skaters have to to be really good.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Donnell replied sardonically.

Kieran shrugged. “Hey, I am as I am,” he said. “Ahh, its starting to get really cold out here,” he added with a shiver. “Do you want to go inside somewhere warm?”

“What did you have in mind?” Donnell asked suspiciously.

Kieran’s eyes were twinkling. He lifted a gloved finger to his lips. “It’s a secret,” he told Donnell. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

 

 

They traded in their skates and left the rink. Kieran stood on the corner and hailed a cab, while Donnell stood besides him and wondered bemusedly why he was allowing this human mage to drag him around the city like this. Still, this was better than just sitting in his apartment and staring at the TV. So he’d put up with it for now, until he got tired of Kieran’s enthusiasms. 

A cab pulled up in front of them. Kieran held the door for him. “After you, sir,” he said gaily.   
Donnell frowned at being treated like a woman. But he climbed into the cab anyway, and Kieran slid in after him. The mage leaned forward and gave the cabbie an address that Donnell didn’t recognize. Then he sat back as the cab pulled away from the curb. “Where are we going?” the vampire asked.

Another manic grin. “Not telling,” Kieran crooned. “Uh uh. You have to wait and see,” he went on with a laughing glance at Donnell.

He fumed silently, leaning back against the cushions of the seat and folding his arms over his chest. He was probably pouting, Donnell thought to himself. But right at this moment, he really didn’t care. Kieran was annoying him. The mage had pulled off his gloves and was twiddling his fingers again. The vampire felt the tingle of magic once more, then Kieran opened his hand to reveal a blood-red rose in his palm. He held this out to Donnell with as wink. 

The vampire scowled at him and refused to take the blossom. Kieran shrugged and made it disappear, relaxing back against the cushions himself. He looked utterly comfortable and pleased with himself. Made Donnell want to kick him in the shins smartly. He turned his black look on the frozen outside instead, refusing to meet Kieran’s eyes anymore. Bastard had hypnotized him with that weird, duel-colored gaze. He was sure of it. He was bespelled.

The cab pulled to a halt. “Here we are!” Kieran sang, getting out and holding the door for him again. But Donnell got out the other side instead, glaring at him. Kieran only shrugged and went to pay the cabbie, tipping him generously. 

Donnell stared at the bui0lding in front of them. It had large windows, and a mellow golden warmth shone from within. Kieran bounced over to him(how did someone that tall bounce anyway?) and waved a hand at him. “Come inside,” he said wheedlingly. 

Donnell scowled at him but followed when he led the way into the building. The floor was shiny black-and white tile, and small tables and chairs were set on it. A counter ran the length of one wall, with glass cases full of delectable looking pastries and treats under it. Kieran led him up to the counter. “This is the best bakery and candy shop in town,” he told Donnell. “Everything is made right here in the shop, and its all awesome. Hi!” he chirped to the man behind the counter, who was wearing a white apron. “I know this is going to sound weird, but I’d like a little bit of everything. Can you do that? Give me a sampler plate?”

The man nodded. “Sure, if that’s what you want,” he said. 

“Great!” Kieran beamed at him. “My friend has never been here before - I want him to be able to taste all of the cool things that you make.”

The man looked hopefully at Donnell, obviously seeing a new customer in the making. He bustled away to make up a sampler plate, as Kieran turned to Donnell. “This should be fun,” he remarked. “Watching you get to taste all of this stuff.”

Donnell wasn’t sure that he liked that idea. His intense response to just a drop of hot chocolate did not bode well for tasting all of these sweets and pastries. He debated just taking to his heels, but the part of him that was incredibly lonely and longing for a friend or companion of some kind wouldn’t let him do so. He shoved his hands into his pockets and frowned, trying to resign himself to what was going to happen very soon. 

The man returned and handed Kieran a plate with little tidbits of everything that the shop sold on it. Kieran thanked him and paid for the treats, then dragged Donnell over to one of the little tables and set the plate down in front of him triumphantly. The vampire looked at the plate apprehensively, gulping as his taste buds began to tingle. This, he thought rather wildly, was just about exactly how he’d imagined that Purgatory would be like. He was really, REALLY in trouble now.


End file.
